The crowd of Lydia's party cheered wildly, mad on a wolfsbane high with a missing hostess.

Winnie stepped out of the heart of the Martin home, looking around the crowded backyard. Her thin frame moved through the teenagers, in search of a brunette. "Where's Allison?"

Stiles caught up to Winnie, knowing who she was looking for. "Allison bolted." He quickly looked around, Scott joining the two of them. "Dude, anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out."

Spatter hit Winnie's legs, causing her to wheel around as a girl was thrown into the pool. "Perfect," she muttered. "What the hell do we do?" she asked. Her keys were already gone, having forced Pete, Jake and Libby to leave.

"I don't know," said Scott, "but we gotta...."

"I can't swim!"

The trio's attention shot to the pool, commotion breaking out by the water.

Two lunky lacrosse players heaved Matt Daehler up, dragging him towards the pool.

"No, no, no, stop, guys!" Matt shouted in fear as he suddenly sailed through the air. "I can't swim! I can't swi-"

"Shit," Winnie said as she kicked off her heels and ran for the pool. She dove under the water in a perfect arc, not caring about her designer dress.

The water thrashed, everyone above the water going silent.

Gasps filled the air, Winnie hoisting Matt to the surface. She swam on her back, getting them towards the shallow end of the pool.

Matt was panting, panic still in his eyes as Winnie kept him afloat and brought him to the ledge.

Jackson came up behind Matt, pulling him up out of the pool. He spoke none, a blank expression on his face.

Matt quickly spat out water, drenched from head to toe. He looked around, everyone staring at him. "What are you looking at?" he angrily questioned as Jackson left. He walked towards Scott and Stiles, glowering at the two before stalking off into the house.

Winnie floated in the pool, her hair clinging to her as she looked up. She swore, police sirens wailing into the distance. "The cops are here," she shouted as she swam to the ladder and climbed out of the pool. "Party's over!"

Everyone panicked, bolting for safety in every direction.

Winnie calmly walked to Scott and Stiles, her beige dress soaked and defined. She spat out water, "Let's bail."

Screams still echoed, the house clearing out in a matter of seconds while the supernatural affiliated trio walked out to the front yard.

"Winnie, did you drink the punch?" Stiles asked as he and Scott followed the soaking girl down the driveway.

The cold hit Winnie's wet body, chilled to the bone. "Yeah, yeah I did."

Scott raised an eyebrow, "What did you see?"

Winnie stayed quiet for a moment, stopping in front of the squad car as the deputy pulled up. "My brother."

Slightly confused, Stiles didn't understand. "Pete?"

Simply, Winnie said, "No."

Scott slipped away as Deputy Monroe snapped at his boss' kid to tell him why every house on the street had complained about the noise.

Winnie stayed by Stiles, the deputy having to look at her twice before taking off his jacket and handing it to her. She softly smiled, trying not to shake as she wrapped herself in it. "Thank you."

Scott scanned the street, feeling something wrong. He stilled, spotting a seething Matt staring directly at him. His eyebrows shot up, his mouth parting. "Holy-"

And wrapped around his legs protectively was the kanima.

Matt was the master, and he vanished into thin air.

¥ ¥ ¥

The charred remains of the Hale House stood under the full moon, cloaked in the darkness of the night.

A strawberry blonde dragged an unconscious Derek along the floors of the abandoned place, having despite not being able to control any of her emotions properly.

"Lydia," Derek murmured as his vision of the moon lit room. "Lydia."

The floorboards were ripped up, the pursuit of something important underneath.

Lydia dropped Derek by the wide hole in the floor, going down on her knees.

"Lydia," he weakly said without having control over his limbs, "stop."

Lydia took one of Derek's arms, hanging it down into the crude grave. She stared down at Peter Hale's body, his ghost having tormented her for weeks. Peter's corpse was curled up, one hand reaching out as if even in death he knew the plan.

Lydia stuck Derek's arm into Peter's outstretched hand, curling the stony fingers around the alpha's flesh.

"You don't know what you're doing," Derek breathily said.

Lydia, however, couldn't be swayed.

She rose to her feet, going to the single mirror catching the moon's reflection. She shifted the mirror, the room suddenly lighting up in a display of moon beams.

One going directly onto Peter's body.

Claws suddenly sank into Derek's veins, Peter Hale's eyes ripping open.

Derek screamed in pain through gritted teeth, his life force being drawn out of him in the most painful way. He gasped, crimson ringing his eyes for only a moment before getting back to green. His body collapsed, the pain gone.

The floor boards broke around the unruly hole, Peter's body busting through.

Covered in months of dust and debris, the incredibly alive Peter Hale rose from his fodder grave with a malicious smirk on his lips. "I heard there was a party."

Derek was still on his back, weak while trying to move back away from his uncle.

Lydia sat on her knees, her heart pounding even as she hadn't fully understood what she'd done.

"Don't worry," Peter cooed, "I invited myself."

¥ ¥ ¥

"No, stay inside. The moon's still full," Winnie warned before she hung up her call with her brother, in the back of Stiles' Jeep with Scott's lacrosse hoodie over her still damp skin. She'd borrowed a pair of Nike joggers from Lydia's house and only had time to put up her hair in a wet ponytail before Scott had dragged her and Stiles from the party.

Winnie shook her head as she put her phone in her lap, "Matt, of all people."

Stiles pulled into the driveway of his house, "I've never trusted him." He glanced back to Winnie over his shoulder as he turned off the Jeep. "You should've let him drown."

"Then I'd be as bad as Jackson," Winnie quietly remarked as she climbed out of the car. She left her bag from the party in the backseat, only carrying her phone as she walked up to the house in a pair of Lydia's barely worn sneakers.

"Still," Stiles mumbled as he went through the front door. "Dad? Dad, we need you." He immediately went upstairs, expecting everyone to follow him.

"What now?" Stilinski asked as he came out from his room at the top of the stairs.

"Matt Daehler," Stiles said as he went into his room. He quickly picked up their freshman yearbook, thumbing to the right page as he sat down. "Him," Stiles said as he circled the face in sharpie.

Winnie and Scott stood on one side of Stiles while his father took the other.

"He's the one who's been doing it, Dad," Stiles told him.

"So," Stilinski questionably said, "this kid's the real killer?"

"Yeah," Stiles replied, absolutely sure.

Stilinski's eyebrows went up, "No."

"Yes."

The previous Sheriff crossed his arms, "No."

"Dad, come on," snapped Stiles. "Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So all you have to do is, like, look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter, Kara, wasn't in Harris' class."

Stiles sighed, "All right, okay, you're right, sorry. Then I guess they dropped the charges against him?"

Glaring slightly, Stilinski pointed at his son. "No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges. But that doesn't prove anything."

Stiles tried to speak, gripping his knuckles as his dad didn't give him the chance to.

"Scott," Stilinski looked around the plaid covered boy, "Winnie, do you two believe this?"

Scott glanced to Winnie before moving his focus to the sheriff. "It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it's Matt."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, "he took Mr. Harris' car, okay? Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders, and that if enough of the victims were in Harris' class, that they'd arrest him."

"Alright, fine," the Sheriff quickly said. "I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive. I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Stiles asked in a worked up tone. "Our swim team sucks. They haven't won in like, six years." His voice quickly shifted, "Okay, we don't have a motive yet. I mean, come on, does Harris?"

Stilinski, however, couldn't argue back. "What do you want me to do?"

Winnie perked up, surprised they'd won him over. "We need to look at the evidence."

"Yeah, the would be in the station," said Stilinski, "where I no longer work."

"Trust me," Stiles jumped when he could, "they'll let you in."

Stilinski practically had a stroke, jabbing his finger at his son. "Trust you?"

Stiles hesitated, "Trust..." he pointed behind both his shoulders, "trust them?"

"Them I trust," Stilinski agreed. He nodded towards the door, "Let's go, I'll drive."

Scott and Winnie high fived discretely, quickly going out the door behind Stiles and his father. They all filed into the non uniform car, it unnervingly quiet as Stilinski headed for the station.

What Winnie admired was that Stilinski was still doing everything he could to solve what was plaguing his town. Even when he wasn't Sheriff. Even when it meant trusting teenagers.

Even when he didn't know half of the story.

"The swim team here does suck," Winnie said out of the blue in the dead silence of the SUV.

The three boys hesitated, each cracking smiles a moment later. They couldn't help it, filling the car with laughter.

Winnie grinned, chuckling herself as they drove on.

It was true though, Beacon's team did suck. It actually had been about six years since they've even placed at state.

Stilinski glanced up to the mirror, catching a look at Winnie. "Jones, you're from Colorado, right?"

"Yes sir," Winnie replied sweetly. "Arvada, about an hour from Denver."

"How do you like it in Beacon?" he asked while driving with one hand on the wheel. He pulled into the station lot, finding a spot up by the front of his old work building.

"It's nice," Winnie said as she unclipped her seat belt when the car stopped. "A little more murdery than expected, but..."

Winnie earned soft grins, the group of them heading up to the front door.

Stilinski went in first, coming up to the main desk. He gave a knowing look to the deputy.

"It's 2 in the morning," Kammi flatly said.

"Believe me," Stilinski said to her, "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extremely important."

Stiles kept his voice low, speaking only to Winnie and Scott. "We look at the hospital stuff first, okay?"

"Why?" questioned the beta.

"Because," Winnie said with a full understanding of Stiles' tactics, "Jackson committed all the murders except one, right? Remember the pregnant girl, Jessica. Since Matt had to kill her himself, somebody from the hospital could've seen him."

"Boys, Winnie," Stilinski said over his shoulder once getting through to Kammi. He led them back to his old office, it not fully cleared out.

"Hospital footage," Stiles told his dad as he shut the door once they were all in the fairly empty room. "That's what we need to see."

Stilinski skimmed the computer, still being able to log on. He didn't question Stiles right away as he brought up the security tapes from the entire 24 hours surrounding Jessica's murder.

The footage played, the three teens herded behind Stilinski with close focus.

After a few minutes, Stilinski finally spoke up, "I don't know, guys. I mean, look at this. There was a six car pile up that night, the hospital was jammed."

"All right, just keep going," Stiles told him with a sigh. "Look, he had to pass one of the cameras on the floor to get to Jessica, okay? He's gotta be on the footage somewhere."

Winnie narrowed her eyes, "Wait! Look! Scroll back."

Stilinski played back to footage, getting a rise out of his son. "All I see is the back of someone's head."

"Matt's head," Stiles quickly said, "yeah. I sit behind him in history. He has a very distinct cranium, it's weird."

Stilinski shot a look at his kid, "Are you crazy?"

Stiles wagered Matt's jacket, only for it to be no help in the conviction.

"Can we scroll forward?" Scott asked to interrupt their banter. "There's gotta be a shot of him, coming at one of the cameras."

When Stilinski did, Stiles immediately stopped him. "There he is again!"

"You mean there's the back of his head again," retorted Stilinski.

"He's talking to someone - wait," Winnie glanced to Scott, "isn't that your mom?"

Scott quickly got her on the phone, Melissa just getting home from a shift. He threw information at her, trying to see if she could confirm Matt being at the hospital. After sending a picture, some headway was made.

"I mean, I remember I stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall. Scott, what's going on?"

"It's nothing, Mom," Scott defended quickly. "I'll explain later. I gotta go."

Stilinski opened a file, relieved that they could now use Melissa as a witness. "Okay, we've got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site."

"And if they match," deliberated Winnie, "then Matt's at three murder sites with evidence to prove it. The trailer, the hospital and the rave."

"Actually, four," Stilinski said. "A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed."

"When?" questioned Stiles as his father stood up to his level.

"A couple hours before you got there."

"All right, Dad, if one's an incident, two's a coincidence and three's a pattern, what's four?"

Stilinski lightly nodded, "Four's enough for a warrant." He pointed to McCall, "Scott, call your mom back, see how quick she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Winnie, got to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here."

"You got it," Winnie agreed without hesitation before jogging out to the front. She slowed, finding the deputy gone from her post. "Hello?" Stepping forward, a sickness crawled in her stomach as she looked over the counter.

Deputy Hall was sprawled out on the floor with her eyes wide open; lifeless and covered in blood.

Winnie lurched back, holding in a scream. She spun on her heel, gasping as a metal barrel touched her forehead.

With red, watery eyes and a distraught expression, Matt Daehler held a gun to her head.

- Hey guys I just wanted to check in with you guys and let you know that I'm super close to finishing my written copy of The Shining and I think I'll be ending it at roughly 40 chapters with an epilogue leading into the...sequel! It's a for sure thing, there will be a sequel covering all of season 3! It'll be called Canvas Wounds and will be up soon after I finish this! xx - Mel